Blame it on the Alcohol
by mais-la
Summary: A bunch of one-shot/song-fics starring your favorite APH characters centered around the woes and joys of alcohol.  T for Alcohol.
1. Waking Up in Vegas

Monaco tried to ignore the buzzing sound of a phone. The pounding in her head told her she couldn't. She attempted to gracefully rise from bed, but found out that she couldn't due to an arm draped around her waist. A few tries later, the momentum from getting whoever's arm off of her also succeeded in rolling her off the bed. Luckily, the landing was soft from some bedding.

Finally, the buzzing ended but she was still on the floor, now trying desperately to figure out where she was and why she was there. This certainly wasn't her place.

"Mona…?"

Monaco froze at the sound of her name, and her breath caught in her throat. Maybe she was imagining it. Maybe if she ignored it, it'd go away.

"Monaco…?"

She nearly groaned. Hoisting her upper body up with her arms, she moved to lean on the bed, resting her arms on the bed and her head on top of her arms. Surprise etched itself onto her features. "A-alfred?" She nearly squeaked.

"You're still here." Alfred smiled. "Good morning."

Monaco sputtered back a "B-bonjour" before taking her head off of her arms. Something had been digging into her face. That something, she realized before long was a ring. Her heart-beat skyrocketed and her breathing hitched.

Alfred saw the terrified look on her face and laughed a bit hesitantly. "Oh… so you woke up with a ring too? Hehe…"

She could only nod, not taking her eyes off the blasted cubic zirconium. "I… I don't remember last night…"

The nation in front of her almost looked a bit crestfallen at that. "O-oh, well… Let me refresh your memory!"

iMonaco huffed inside the Venetian. Her grand frère could not control her like she was a little girl anymore! She had her own nation, and it was doing pretty damn well, too! She sighed as she entered into the casino section. It was so nice. It reminded her of her own casinos, except this… Las Vegas was far away from her brother.

"Monaco! Hey, hey, Monaco!" She turned to see America, Alfred jogging up to her. "I'm over here! I'm stoked you decided to visit."

She forced a smile back to the excited nation. "Bonjour, Alfred. I just need to… get away a little…"

He nodded in large movements and replied, "Yeah! I know what you mean! Come on, let's hit the slots. We'll grab a few drinks and really let you unwind."

Normally, Monaco was against drinking, but in her current state she was really 'up for anything', so she just nodded and followed along.

"D-do you remember… the rings part?" Monaco asked, returning her horrified gaze to the shiny gem on her finger.

Alfred laughed hesitantly again, "Not really… I think we were both kinda smashed by that point!" This time he let out a real laugh.

Monaco let out a large sigh. "Well… It's … it's okay it's not official unless we have a-"

"What's this?" Peeling off the rectangular piece of paper attached to his face, he squinted as he read it without his glasses. Recognition hit Alfred like a ton of bricks.

"Marriage certific-… merde…" Monaco swore as the 'hero' turned the piece of paper towards her.

A slow smirk crossed the heroes face… "Looks like we hit the jackpot, Mona. What'd you say we go hit some of those slots again?"

"Shut up and put your money where your mouth is, that's what you get for waking up in Vegas~"


	2. Love Drunk

England gripped the glass in his hand. He was so angry! No… He was sad… They were over. God… He loved her so much! But he hated her. The way she could make him uncontrollably angry and then so depressed he couldn't move.

Gulp one. The first time he saw her, he talked to her, he was so angry. What the hell was wrong with him? He was going crazy. He went from being in a rage, who the hell was that touching her arm? To feeling his heart fly. She was… looking. At him. He could still remember the smile, the glint in her eye when she looked his way. He didn't want to remember, though! Dammit! He wished he could just forget.

Gulp two. Refill the glass. He couldn't go two days without talking to her. It was like they were connected by an invisible string, and when they weren't together, the string would tug and tug until he had to call her, or see her. Even now, when they're over, the string still tugs at him. He wondered if the string was tugging at her too. No. He couldn't think of her. Just one thought and…

Gulp three. Even when they were together, she still drove him just as crazy as she did before. Who was that guy that she was talking to? She was laughing. She ran up to him and hugged him and he couldn't stop the smile that came over him. A powerful wave of melancholy ran through him, and he choked back tears. Was he drunk already? He couldn't tell. He was only on his second glass but… The wave of melancholy hit again as he remembered her smiling face.

Gulp four. He remembered their sweet words. Loving forever? How ridiculous. Forever is over, it seemed. He knew that this might not last. This 'break'. Things like that had happened in the past. One would call the other crying, and be instantly forgiven. No… Not this time, he couldn't take this anymore. She'd have to get used to being without him for good, from now on. He'd have to get used to it to…

Gulp five. You're supposed to 'get something' out of a relationship, aren't you? Something good. That's what he'd read. If that was so, his time with her had been on gargantuan waste of time. He'd tried to fix them, when the kisses turned into harsh words, but she didn't care. Now he was over her, and in a more sober state of mind. He laughed, if only that statement had been true. Well, he was already too far gone to go back.

Gulp six. They had kissed all the time, but their love was like a fruit. In the sense it went rotten quickly in heat. As time went on, they kissed less and yelled more. Their passion turned to loathing. After a while, he was pretty sure neither of them knew why they were still there other than they 'loved' each other. Sometimes he wondered if he'd been crazy that whole relationship.

"I used to be love drunk, but now I'm hung over.  
>I'll love you forever. But now it's over."<p> 


	3. Hooray For Beer

Denmark slammed his mug against the counter of the bar. "Another one!" He hollered at the bartender. His spirits were high, his cup was full again, and nothing could make the King of Scandinavia feel better.

He wasn't sure what it was, but part of him just didn't feel right unless he had his fist clasped around a mug of ale. He gulped down his mug full and ordered another. His eyes were draw to the next mug presented to him and he looked at it adoringly. If there was one thing for certain, one whole truth in the world… It would be that Denmark really loved his beer.

"Hooray for beer! I'm really glad you're here.

Let's make this moment last.

You feel, so right! Wanna be with you all night,

Shouting out 'Hooray for Beer'!"


	4. U  UR Hand

Gilbert smirked as he leaned again the bar, "Gute nacht." The woman he was speaking to looked towards him and frowned. She was unimpressed and pissed off.

"How are you tonight?" He asked, his voice smooth as silk. Her deadpan look did nothing discourage him, apparently.

He took a step forward, "So… What're you drinking?" His eyes pierced into hers, trying to persuade her to smile, reply, and then hopefully go home with him. That wasn't going to happen.

She smiled, but anyone, except the tipsy Prussian, could tell it was forced, fake, and going to lead him to lots of trouble. Her hand found itself to his chest and his smirk widened.

Her smile formed a smirk as she pushed him down and straddled the sitting man. She leaned forward and went to whisper in his ear. Anyone looking would think they were two flirting lovers, or going to leave together tonight. Common, not out of place. Gilbert thought that as well, which is why her words caught him by total surprise.

"I'm not here for your entertainment. You don't really wanna mess with me tonight. Just stop. And take a second. I was fine before you walked into my life. Cause you know it's over, before it began. Keep your dream, just gimme the money. It's just you and your hand tonight." With that, she nipped his earlobe, got to her feet, and walked off.

Before she walked out of the bar, she turned and looked at him. Gilbert smirked, he could have sworn he saw her wink at him… The chase was on. Postponed for another night or two, but on. He'd be sure to be back tomorrow.


	5. Last Friday Night

Belgium groaned and clutched her head. She already had a faint idea of what had happened, but tried her best to collect the rest of the missing pieces. Her dress was ripped, her hair was missing a chunk, and as she observed herself in the mirror and the rest of the room behind her, she smirked. Must have been a hell of a night!

The fact that there was a man (she hoped) in the bed she'd been sleeping in should have startled her, but to be honest, she was expecting it after the night she'd had! There were about three ways you could handle 'the morning after' a night like that, she was sure. Forget it ever happened (what was the point of that? It had! And it was clearly great.) Act ashamed (once again, point? It had, it was awesome, why be ashamed for having a good time?) Or lastly, ride it out. You made the choices, live with them and make the best of it. Speaking of which…

She strode over to the asleep… she pulled down the sheet covering his face. It was a bit like Russian Roulette she supposed (please don't let it be Russia!) She let out a relaxed sigh and smirked again. It was Spain. Oh Spain… Only one thing to do with an unconscious Spaniard that she may or may not have had sexual relations with the drunken night before.

'Belgium was here, and wants to do it again' was scrawled across his face in sharpie.

"Yeah I think we broke the law, always say we're gonna stop.

This Friday night… Do it all again~"


	6. Last Call Casualty

"Alfred!" You shouted at him. He smiled back, his drunken stupor making him stumble towards the house you shared with your boyfriend.

America waved at you and you shook your head and then placed your head in your hands. He called to you from the front yard, "I had to come… Get you back!"

You should have known that from the calls that had been coming. ALL NIGHT. Your phone had been ringing off the hook from the same restricted number, you heard his voice once and unplugged the phone.

After that, your phone began incessantly buzzing. You turned it off, and rolled over towards your boyfriend, looking forward to a night of uninterrupted sleep. After dating Alfred for so long you should haven't expected him to give up so quickly.

He swore he wasn't that drunk, he'd only had two beers! Regardless, he agreed to take a cab home after you stopped answering his calls from his cell when he was still at the bar.

Alfred would have gone straight home, but in the cab, your song had begun playing! A hero couldn't ignore the signs! He gave the cab driver a new destination, immediately.

"Just go home, Alfred!" you pleaded him, but he wouldn't listen.

"I can't! Not until you come back. I can't be a hero without a damsel in distress!"

You sighed, this hero thing only made sense to his arguments, only way to beat it was to work with it. "You're the cause of my distress! You're the villain!"

After that, he just stared with those puppy dog eyes. You hissed, "Alfred, get out of here! You know what will happen if he wakes up!" The 'he', of course, was your boyfriend. The Goliath to Alfred's David.

Alfred shook his head again, "I don't care." His voice and expression had changed dramatically. "He can't do anything to hurt me more than what he's doing now. Being in your heart. And your bed."

"He said if he finds me I'll be dead,

But I'm already in my head,

'Cause he's the one that's lying with you in your bed"


	7. Dear Maria

Why? WHY, goddammit?

[Name] clutched the glass in her hand and let out another choked sob. How long could she keep doing this? She let her head fall into her arms, resting on her kitchen counter.

It had been weeks since anyone saw her, probably. Not that she had kept track of time since then.

She couldn't keep doing this. She was running out of ways to cope, and by that, she meant bottles of whiskey. She'd have to either… confront her problems, or… she didn't know. She clutched the glass tighter and let the feeling run from her fingers until her hand just went limp. She relished the sensation.

[Name] was too lost in her own mind and the booze that she didn't even notice the blonde nation enter her house.

"[Name]…" Ludwig nearly growled, although it was accompanied by a sigh. He shook his head but strode forward, removed the glass from her hand and the bottle from the counter. Finally then did she notice him.

She looked up at him with broken eyes.

"Tell me"

He sat next to her, and with every sob into his shoulder, she was one step better to being alright again.

"Dear Maria, count me in,

There's a story at the bottom of this bottle,

And I'm the pen"


End file.
